


Familiar Routines

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: The witnesses had always had their morning routine since they started living together.





	Familiar Routines

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me in the middle of the night on Tuesday. So I wrote it down.

The witnesses had always had their morning routine since they started living together. Cooking breakfast and cleaning up afterwards together, settling down for post cleaning coffee before Abbie had to head off to Headquarters. They would often fill the other in on their plans for the day, just in case, so the other wouldn't freak out if they couldn't be reached-- _Oh right, Crane was dealing with contractors today for the Archives. Oh yes, I distinctly recall the Lieutenant mentioning that meeting this morning_.

The routine didn't much change after the Apocalypse was over. Sure, occasionally Crane would mention getting his own place. But the places were always too far from the Archives, too prone to late night rascals playing loud music, too far from the FBI Headquarters, didn't have enough natural lighting, or the Lieutenant just didn't like the place. Which, nine times out of ten, it was the Lieutenant's disapproval of places that would make his search for a domicile of his own cease.

That morning had started out like all others. 

Abbie made coffee while Crane made fresh orange juice. Crane handed Abbie breakfast goodies and she put them on the counter. They skirted around each other in their morning waltz as Abbie started toast and Crane made eggs, while the sausage and bacon were in the oven.

Then they would plate up and settle down at the peninsula. 

“The farmers market is open today. Mrs Danbury said she should have some fresh jams today,” Crane said.

“You want to meet for lunch since you'll be in town,” Abbie asked, getting up to pour her travel mug full of her caffeinated elixir.

And it was agreed, as Crane started bringing plates to the sink. They would meet for lunch at the little cafe at the farmers market. After quickly jamming everything into the dishwasher, Crane settled down at the table to play games on his tablet while Abbie added enough sugar in her coffee to turn it into a coffee flavoured syrup and just a dab of milk.

As she waltzed past, Abbie proclaimed, “see ya at lunch.” It was the moment after that their morning routine changed. Abbie brushed a quick peck on his lips. They both startled in surprise and blinked at each other for a moment. 

“Um. Yeah lunch,” Abbie said quickly, then hauled ass out the door to work.

Crane simply stared after her, confused. 

It didn't get mentioned at lunch. Nor was it mentioned at all, ever again. It did, however, start to become part of their morning routine. At first it was a couple days a week. Then it was most days. Then it was every day. Abbie secretly thought it was cute that Crane perked up a little when she headed toward him, coffee in hand. Sometimes it was a peck on the lips or cheek. Sometimes, normally when Abbie was feeling rushed, Crane would capture her face in his hands and have the kiss linger just long enough to remind her some things were worth slowing your pace. 

It was soon evident that more than their morning routine was changing. Abbie started joining Crane on his Sunday morning constitutional at the park. At first Abbie walked at his side, a good foot of space between them. Then the space closed. Then they started holding hands. As the summer faded into autumn, she started linking her arm with his and using his coat sleeve to shield her face from the cool breezes.

Movie nights, which were once spent with them at separate ends of the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them, were now both of them at the same end. Abbie would plant herself between his leg as they lounged with their feet on the cushions. She would lean back against him, popcorn bowl in her lap. He would reach around her for a handful of popcorn, occasionally brushing the back of his hand against her breast in the process. It happened just infrequently enough that it might have actually been an accident. 

What wasn't an accident was the times popcorn fights led to kisses and kisses leading to amorous encounters on the couch. The amorous encounters on the couch led to amorous encounters in one of their bedrooms on non-movie nights. It wasn't always mind blowing. Sometimes it turned into fits of giggles because one of them made a noise the other found inappropriately hilarious. Then there were the times Crane would get _too enthusiastic_ and things would be over when they had barely begun.

When Crane's bed broke, they took to using either her bed or the couch. After a while, Abbie cleared out space in her closet and chest of drawers and had Crane start keeping his things in her room so he didn't have to go downstairs to fetch fresh clothes and his hygiene items every morning. 

It was just a series of simple changes in routine. Like when they started adding “love you” at the morning kiss. Abbie liked the routine. She didn't have to ask if Crane liked it. She knew he did because he turned into Pavlov's dog when she filled her cup every morning.

They had their arguments, their bickering, of course. But they were almost always settled by bedtime. It was strange how it felt like they were starting to finally move past the Apocalypse. They were slowly letting themselves heal, allowing themselves to experience life once again. And on the bad nights--when Crane woke up screaming Abbie’s name or when Abbie would start throwing kicks and punches in her sleep--the other was there hold them until the nightmares faded away.

“We should wed, I believe,” Ichabod stated one morning. “If you are amenable, of course.”

Abbie mulled it over and nodded, “Yeah, it would probably be a good idea. I have vacation all next week so we could do it Monday morning and maybe go to the mountains for a honeymoon. I could add you to my insurance so that's also a plus.”

“Would you like to have Jenny in attendance?”

“Yeah but let me ask her,” Abbie said after a brief silence. “You know how she's been since that deal with Dad.” She smiled when Crane gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Some part of her mind wondered how long he had harboured feelings for her. Another wondered exactly when they had become so comfortably familiar with each other. He no longer said _Miss Jenny_ and _Lieutenant_ came far less often than _Jenny_ and _Abbie_. “We all did what we had to do.”

“Monday it shall be,” Ichabod stated. “I shall have my finest laundered and pressed by the young miss at the dry cleaners.”

Abbie shook her head. “No need to be all fancy for the courthouse.” 

“If you expect me to wed you in jeans and a _tee_ , you are gravely mistaken,” he grumped.

“I'm just saying, it doesn't have to be your _finest_ ,” Abbie pointed out. “Should we get rings?”

It was decided that yes, there would be rings. Abbie went with a pink tear drop sapphire surrounded by tiny white sapphires on a white gold band. Ichabod was disappointed with the simplicity of the men's rings but chose a white gold band. They dished out a little extra to get them in by Saturday. On Sunday, Abbie wore the engagement ring to Jenny's. 

Ichabod stayed home because Jenny still refused to welcome him anywhere she was.

Abbie thought she had kept her ring finger mostly out of view. But over apple pie at Mabie’s, Jenny grabbed the offending hand and took a long, questioning look at the ring. “Something I should know about?”

Abbie stared at her own hand and for a moment, having forgotten that she was engaged. How the hell did she go from single to getting married without realizing it? “Oh, right. I forgot,” Abbie murmured. “Crane and I are getting married Monday morning. We wanted to see if you wanted to come.”

Jenny's head jerked back and she blinked in surprise. “What? When did you two actually start dating?” 

Abbie shrugged. “Sometime last year, I think. Maybe. It just… I don't know, things just changed. Little by little and… now we're going to get married.” She pursed her lips. “Ichabod probably knows the exact minute.” 

“You're going to marry the man that killed our father,” Jenny said tightly. “Nice.”

“Jenny,” Abbie groaned. “Whatever that was, that thing Crane killed, it was not _Ezra_. It was _not_ our father. And he did it to save our damn lives.” She felt tears sting her eyes and she swallowed down the wave of emotion. “And it wakes him up at nights. He's having to live with the choices he made, just like I am, and just like you do. Are you coming to the wedding or not?”

“Of course I am,” Jenny scoffed. “Someone has to object when the judge asks.”

“You better not,” Abbie deadpanned. 

Jenny sighed heavily. “Fine. So why did you two decide to get married anyway? Does he have some potentially terminal disease unless he gets that Federal insurance covering his ass?”

“Eh, it's part of it,” Abbie hummed indifferently as Jenny sipped at her coffee. “He's not sick. But, we figured it would be a good idea to get married before the baby started showing and we could enjoy a honeymoon in the mountains.”

At that, Jenny spurted coffee out of both her mouth and nostrils. “ _The what_?”

Abbie blinked at her sister slowly. “The mountains?” She chuckled when Jenny gave her a flat glare. “You're going to be an auntie.” Jenny glared harder, Abbie simply shrugged, “It is what it is.”

Jenny groaned with frustration. “Great, I'm going to have to make an effort to tolerate Crane if I ever want to see my niece or nephew, aren't?” She rolled her eyes when Abbie nodded. “Just be glad I love you.”

“I am,” Abbie replied. 

The wedding went without conflict. Afterwards Abbie and Ichabod changed their last names to Mills-Crane then slipped upstate for their honeymoon. No monsters. No demons. No otherworldly beings interrupted. And when they welcomed their son a few months later…

They named him August Ezra Mills-Crane.


End file.
